Page 21 of Paper Hearts & Plot Twists

“Miles,” Ben said in exasperation. “It would just be more talk about what you’ve already said. It’s not like I’m asking you to be disingenuous.”

Miles raised a brow. “You’ve asked me to be disingenuous before. So believing that isn’t much of a stretch.”

“But that’s not the case right now,” Ben hedged.

“Be that as it may be, I’m not meeting with journalists for interviews. If a deal happens, great. If not, we’ll figure something else out.”

“Fine,” Ben conceded.

Chapter 15

Emily dropped her purse and cussed as she fumbled to get her keycard out. She bent down and dug through the bag on the floor, setting the computer bag and conference tote next to her. She’d been busy between the poetry panel, her spa experience, lunch, and the scavenger hunt, but she needed to get ready for the big event of the evening.

Emily unlocked the door and held it open with her foot. She bent awkwardly and lifted her purse and two bags into her arms then shimmied the door open with her foot before she stepped into the room.

Miles stood in front of the mirror, wearing a crisp black suit with a white button-up underneath. Emily had never seen a piece of clothing that looked so nice. The contrast was intense, and the metal accents absolutely shone. He looked better suited for MTV or the Golden Globes than some little book conference. She had to admit, if only to herself, that Miles looked damn good. The suit accentuated his shoulders, making them look broader than they already were, while narrowing his waist and hips. His black hair and facial stubble complemented the black suit. How did one man hit the genetic lottery so fully and completely?

Miles turned, a smile on his lips, “Finally back from your hunt?”

“Yes,” Emily responded. “Thanks for your help! I appreciate your response. I got lost moving through the hotel, so being able to text for some input and advice was needed.”

“Happy to be of service! How many stamps were you able to acquire?”

“Five stamps down. I got a stamp at a panel, the spa, a restaurant, the information desk, and the mascot photo area. I don’t think I’d have spotted the photo area without some assistance, though.”

“Twenty-three to go,” Miles replied with a chuckle.

“Twenty-two, actually,” Emily said. “I also got my check-in stamp this morning.”

“We’ll turn you into the scavenger hunt winner in no time,” Miles teased.

“I have to win my books,” Emily said. She set her bags down and looked Miles up and down. “What are you dressed up for?”

“The conference dinner, of course,” Miles responded. “Are you here to get ready? You’re going, right?”

“I was planning on it,” Emily responded. “Though what are you wearing?”

Miles drew his eyebrows together. “What do you mean, what am I wearing? I’m wearing this, a very nice, and very expensive suit, to the formal conference dinner.”

“The online schedule of events said it was a dress-up dinner,” Emily said slowly, “I thought . . . you know . . . like comic con type dress up.” Emily hadn’t gone into this without any thought. The website displayed pictures of past events, and there were photos in the gallery where people were dressed in comic con like attire. Emily went to her suitcase, pulled out a bag, and unzipped it, revealing an outfit: her interpretation of a Persephone outfit, inspired by Sav R. Miller’s Hades/Persephone romance. She was pretty proud of what she’d done, though she definitely had help from Uncle Leo in the process.

A look of horror covered Miles face as he stared at her costume. Emily pulled it close, clutching it to her chest. “Just because it’s homemade, doesn’t mean it looks bad,” she snapped.

“It doesn’t look bad,” Miles said quickly, “but you cannot wear that to dinner tonight.”

“Why ever not? I worked hard on it!”

“Dress up dinner in this case means formal dinner. The parameters were listed on the website, but if you didn’t read the website thoroughly you would’ve missed it.”

“No,” Emily breathed, looking from him to her costume. “I don’t have any formal clothes with me.” She didn’t really have any formal clothes at all, but her lack of fancy clothing was neither here nor there.

“Not one dress?” Miles asked, glancing at her suitcase. “I can help you pick something appropriate if you show me what the options are. I have a lot of experience with events like these.”

“Unless my oversized sweaters and leggings count as halfway formal, I’m out of luck,” Emily explained. She unconsciously picked at the hem of her sweater, glanced down, and plopped on the bed.

“That won’t do,” Miles agreed with a frown.

“I’ll just stay here, I suppose,” Emily said, looking down at her hands. She was extremely disappointed. She’d been looking forward to the tasty food and a fun first-night event, but there was no way she was going to show up to a fancy event underdressed, or dressed in cosplay. She’d be the laughing stock of the evening.

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